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In Memory of Victoria Negro JulianThe 4th Annual John E. Julian Memorial Golf Tournament is being dedicated to Victoria Negro Julian. Included here is her obituary and a remembrance of her from her grand-daughter, Jennifer Julian Davis. ObituaryPublished in the Hartford Courant on 4/19/2005. |
Victoria (Negro) Julian, 86, widow of Michael C. Julian (March 1, 1989) died Sunday, April 17, 2005 at Johnson Memorial Hospital, Stafford Springs. Born in Stafford Springs, on March 23, 1919, she was the daughter of the late John and Marina (Bolzan) Negro.
Vickie was an avid traveler and throughout her life enjoyed camping, tennis, bocci, card playing, and especially bowling at Lucky Strike Lanes, where she was a joint owner-operator. In 32 years, she rarely missed her team's softball games. She was a member of St. Edward Parish.
She was also active in Stafford's Italian Benefit Society's Lady's Auxiliary, Civic and Community Affairs Commission, Hyde Park Commission, and was very involved in the Democratic Party. She was also a member of the Stafford Senior Center and a volunteer for the Stafford Youth Center.
Vickie is survived by her five children and their spouses, Michael V. and Dale Julian of Carrabelle, FL, Marina Julian and David Kenny of Storrs, Gene Julian and Sue Armstrong, Gail Julian-Fiorini and John Fiorini and Nina and Ron Fontaine, all of Stafford Springs; three grandchildren and their spouses, Justin and Carol Julian of Bonners Ferry, ID, Jennifer and Bruce Davis II, and Amber E. Fowler, all of Stafford Springs; two great grandchildren, Hunter and Hannah Davis of Stafford Springs; two sisters-in-law, Paula Fontanella and Clara Julian of Stafford Springs; and three very special people, Andrea Spiller, Betsy Nelson, and Laura Panciera.
Besides her immediate family here and in Italy, she leaves several cousins, nieces, nephews and many close friends, too numerous to mention. She was predeceased by her brothers, Joseph Negro and Aldo Negro, and a son, John E. Julian.
A celebration of her life will be held on Wednesday, April 20, from 1-3 and 5-7 p.m. at Introvigne Funeral Home, Inc., 51 East Main St., Stafford Springs, and continuing at the Italian Club, Club Rd., Stafford Springs.
In lieu of flowers, memorial donations may be made to the Stafford Youth Center, c/o Laura Panciera, 3 Buckley Hwy., Stafford Springs, CT 06076.
"Like most grandmothers there was no real recipe, just years of experience thrown into a pot"
When I think about my grandmother, some of the things that first come to mind are family and food. My grandmother loved to feed people. It did not matter who you were, if you walked into her house, it was unlikely that you would leave without eating. She loved making big meals for the family, you could always count on her having soup on the stove. She loved making bread and biscottis, and no meal was the same without her roasted potatoes. I would ask her over and over about her recipes, how she did certain things, but like most grandmothers there was no real recipe, just years of experience thrown into a pot, and that can never be duplicated.
I spent hours at her house as a young child, if I was too sick to go to school, I would spend the day with her . . . eating soup and learning how to knit and crochet. I would watch her use her sewing machine, repairing and hemming clothes that all of her children and grandchildren left behind. A few weeks ago my daughter was wearing a scarf that I had knitted, and we went to down to visit her. She was admiring the scarf and asked me where I got it. When I told her that I made it, she looked at me in total amazement and said "how did you learn to knit", and I said, "You taught me". Although she did not exactly remember teaching me, it gave her pleasure just the same. She did not always remember the things that we all hoped she would hold on to, which is why it became so important for us to hold on to those memories to share with each other.
I will remember my grandmother as a provider, I always respected her strength; she is the strongest woman I have ever known. At a very young age she faced many challenges, and she learned early on that your extended family can be counted on for your survival. She carried this with her throughout her life, and kept her family close to her . . . even if they lived far away. She believed strongly in large families with large sibling groups, as she knew a lot about loss and knew that having siblings meant never being alone. This was so important to her and she knew that the greatest gifts that she ever gave were Michael, John, Marina, Gene, Gail and Nina. It was so important to her that you each had one another, especially now.
You always knew what my grandmother was thinking, she would share her opinion clearly, there would be no question. I loved to talked politics with her, and I loved sharing this passion with her over the past several years. She gave us all gifts in her wisdom, in the stories she would tell about her family in Italy, and the friends she had everywhere, her experience living through the depression. She thought everyone was spoiled rotten and one of her favorite expressions was that my brother and I had our "asses in butter" our whole lives. I never knew exactly what this meant as a child, but grew up understanding that she was not giving us a compliment and that butter must have been very expensive.
I also felt very lucky as a child to have learned a portion of the Italian language. Mainly the words that I learned I was not allowed to use, as my grandparents would often communicate to each other in Italian when they were mad at each other or when they did not want us to know what they were saying. But as a child you often picked up on words you hear over and over again. I also learned at a young age that when my grandmother was speaking very loudly, that this was not considering "yelling" as it is in many families, but rather "having a conversation". It was then that I learned that in order to be a Julian, you needed to have a loud voice and be heard over everyone else. And if you were lucky enough at the end of the conversation for my grandmother to call you a "horses ass", you knew that she cared for you deeply, for this was her very special term of endearment.
She also had all kinds of parenting advice for me, some you took and some you left behind. I will never forget the times that she told me about tying my Uncle Gene to the tree in the front yard so she wouldn't lose him. She would tell me this story over and over again, and I never got tired of hearing it. She was not insulted when I told her that I was going to try something different with my own children, a new invention called a baby gate. We would laugh together about the difference between being a parent then, and being a parent now.
She was always the cement that kept all of us bonded together. She was our rock and our provider who offered a place of comfort, a place where we knew she would always be sitting in her chair knitting, or standing at the stove cooking or at the table covered in flour, or in her garden with her vegetables, or just sitting in a chair outside, under the awning, with all of her beautiful flowers hanging around her. This is how I will remember my grandmother, during the time when she could go anywhere and do anything, a time when she was able to breathe without a struggle, a time when she was traveling, or playing cards, or standing up to her knees in the water at the pond with her pant legs rolled up because she never liked wearing shorts, even if it was 90 degrees out. I will remember those times when she was healthy and free to do the things that she loved the most. I will remember our trips to Florida and Hawaii, and I will forever remember that just because you are someone's grandmother does not mean that you can't enter a beer drinking contest.
My grandmother was called many things during her lifetime, she was known as "Ma" and "Mommy" to her children and there was a time she was called as "Membe", Stafford knew her as "Vickie" or "Vic", and a very few even called her Victoria. But to grandchildren she will always be treasured as "Noni".
Although we mourn today and say goodbye, the things she leaves behind for us to remember and cherish her by are not material things, but memories of places she has been in the stories she told, and advice she has given. She leaves each of us with something very different as she truly had a unique and special relationship with everyone she knew. These are things she would want us to cherish, and we will honor her by doing so. She will never be forgotten for the generous and caring soul that she was. Together we mourn her but know that she is in a better place, a place where she is no longer sick, or old, or tired. A place where the wood stove burns all the time at the perfect temperature, a place where she always gets the right card dealt to her, where she bowls a strike every single time, a place where the sun always shines, a place where she joins all of those that have gone before her, a place where she is surrounded by sunflowers. This is how she would want to be remembered, and this is how we will remember her. ~Jennifer Julian Davis
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